𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗔 𝗟𝗨𝗖𝗔𝗦 is Fernando Alonso's replacement at Aston Martin after he retires. Her only goal is to prove that she belongs in the sport. However, one driver who goes by the name Lando Norris appears to only want to distract her from t...
LOGAN SARGEANT FINISHED ABOVE ALEX ALBON🔥🔥 I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS
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SUNDAY Cassie awoke beside Tristan, his back turned to her. She thought all night about what Lando told her, contemplating the truth of it until her brain tired and she gave into sleep.
Slipping out of the sheets, she tip toed her way to the bathroom. She allowed Tristan to sleep in. If she woke him early he'd either be furious with her or pull her into bed and love her in every way possible—physically and emotionally. She wasn't in the mood to make that gamble.
She lathered her face with the sudsy bubbles of her face wash. The cold water she splashed on her face to wash the white cast away woke her up, igniting her senses.
Tristan came stumbling through the door, groaning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He put his hands on Cassie's hips, bunching up the fabric of her red silk pajama shorts in his palms. Taking her hair in his hands, he moved the brunette stands to one shoulder, exposing her neck to him. The kisses to her skin were delicate and sensual. She sighed when his hands moved to her ass, knowing what he desired when he squeezed the fat there.
"Tristan-" he cut her off by shushing her and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Tristan, no. Not right now." She told him as kindly as she could, pushing him away.
When she tried to make a move back to the main room so she could get dressed for the day, he nailed a sharp slap on her ass. Jumping out of shock, she stopped momentarily before deciding to let it go.
"Come on you can't wear something like that and not expect me to want you." He called after her.
Her outfit wasn't alluring, not in the slightest. It was a regular silk pajama set, a pair of shorts and tank top. Neither of which highlighted any of her features, in truth the tank top was incredibly baggy.
"You had me last night." She muttered, picking out a team shirt and a pair of loose jeans from her suitcase.
He neared her again, an arm looping around her waist and pulling her roughly into him. "Yeah well, that was last night." He whispered into her ear.
This time, her attempt to push him aside failed as he held her tighter and closer to him. He began his attack on her neck again while she attempted to escape his hold. She was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and annoyed.
"I told you, not right now." She tried to tell him, he didn't listen. It wasn't until she placed two hands on his chest and pushed him roughly that he stopped.
"What? Do you not love me anymore?" He feigned hurt.
She instantly felt bad. "No. I'm sorry." She shook her head. "I just really want to focus on the race. We can do whatever-"
